Page 120 of Pack Plus One

“Does this mean we get to have make-up sex?” Jude blurts out, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Because I have ideas. Many, many ideas. Some involving that honey we keep in the pantry and?—”

Three voices cut him off: “NO.”

Leah laughs, the sound bright and sudden and genuine, and something in my chest cracks open at the joy in it. A smile spreads across her face—the real one, the one that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners and shows the tiny dimple in her right cheek.

“You’reallridiculous,” she says again, but this time there’s unmistakable fondness in the words.

She takes the flowers from Liam, inhaling their scent with a soft hum of appreciation. She plucks a muffin from Jude’s box, her fingers deliberately brushing his in a gesture that makes his scent spike with pleasure. She accepts the cup from Mason, her fingers curling around it in a way that looks possessive rather than merely practical.

Then she turns to me, stepping close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her body. Her scent wraps around me—vanilla and cinnamon and something new, something that smells like resolution.

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, but her eyes are soft.

“I know.”

“I’m not giving up my bakery.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to.”

“Or my apartment.”

I hesitate at that, alpha instincts warring with the logical part of my brain that knows pushing her will end badly. “For now,” I concede.

She raises an eyebrow, challenge written in every line of her face. “For as long as I want.”

“For as long as you want,” I agree, though it costs me.

A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “And I’m taking the mug.”

This startles a laugh out of me. “You can have the whole damn cabinet.”

She brushes past me with deliberate closeness, her shoulder bumping against my chest in a way that feels like forgiveness. Her scent lingers, wrapping around me like an embrace.

“Coming?” she tosses over her shoulder, already halfway to the door.

Jude practically bounces after her, chattering about breakfast plans and how we should stop for donuts on the way home. Liam follows at a more measured pace, pausing to thankZoe with formal politeness that makes her roll her eyes with a grin.

Mason waits for me, one eyebrow raised in silent question.Okay?

I nod, something tight in my chest finally loosening. Not fixed, not completely, but a start. A foundation we can build on.

Zoe raises her whiskey coffee in salute as we file out of her apartment. “Try not to break her heart this time,” she calls after us. “And Leah? You owe me a new pint of Rocky Road for the emotional support services.”

“Put it on my tab,” Leah calls back, but she’s smiling as she says it.

The elevator arrives with a soft ding, and we all pile in—a tangle of limbs and scents and cautious optimism. It’s a tight fit for five people, especially with Jude’s expansive gestures as he outlines his plans for a “reconciliation brunch that will make angels weep.”

Leah finds herself pressed between Mason and me, her smaller frame dwarfed by our larger ones. But instead of pulling away or asserting her space, she leans into my side, her warmth seeping through my shirt. When my fingers find her hip in a light, possessive grip, she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans in further.

The doors close, sealing us in the mirrored box. In the reflection, I catch Mason’s eye over Leah’s head. The beta’s mouth quirks in a small, private smile—the kind I haven’t seen since before this whole mess started.

Jude is still talking, something about pancakes and champagne and “the perfect blend of breakfast debauchery,” while Liam nods with the patient expression of someone who has long since learned to filter Jude’s enthusiasm into manageable portions.

And Leah...

Leah is watching me in the mirrored wall, her eyes meeting mine with a directness that makes my pulse quicken. There’s still wariness there, still uncertainty, but beneath it is something warm and promising.

“Stop looking so smug,” she murmurs. “It’s not like I’m going to let you scent-mark my bakery or something.”

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